Take What's Mine
by AngelicStorm
Summary: Harbinger seeks a new method to eliminate Commander Shepard- joining her crew. Set in ME2. Rated M for strong language, violence, gore, strong sexual content, and mature themes. Femshep x Harbinger.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Best viewed in 3/4 or on mobile. :)**

* * *

The research lab was the quietest it had been in days. For Cerberus… that was saying something. For now, it was just two scientists and one unconscious test subject. A safety precaution. There was no telling exactly how things would play out once he was awake.

Madison Paige leaned over the test subject for a brief moment, using a small flashlight to examine each of his irises. She checked the cybernetic one twice, clicking her tongue at the scar that still marred his left eye. She'd given up trying to convince the surgeons to repair it. They wanted him easily identifiable in case of 'incident'. Never mind the fact that said 'incident' could well occur here and now, in this cold, underground lab with security more than five minutes away.

Peering over her glasses at her datapad, she entered her findings before transferring them to her partner. Across the lab, a small 'hmm' let her know that he'd read it.

Noah Walker had been with Cerberus for years. At first, it had been for the salary, but with hard evidence of the Reapers? He felt it was his duty to stay. He glanced over his shoulder at Madison, raising an eyebrow for a moment as she twisted a few of her brunette strands around her fingers. A nervous habit.

Idly, he scratched his salt and pepper beard. Admittedly, he was nervous as well. "I'll prep the IV."

Research and development of these 'super soldiers' was nothing new to anyone in Cerberus. It was always some pipe dream or another. Rachni DNA, the Thorian, and now…. Reaper technology. The host body was human… donated, but… Heart, liver, biotic amp… the precious few samples of Reaper tech that they possessed had been used to craft this latest venture.

Project Scythe.

A soldier designed to resist the effects of indoctrination and outperform even seasoned veterans on the battlefield. Humanity's trump card against the reapers. His purpose was similar to that of Commander Shepard. She'd left the facility mere weeks ago, though the Illusive Man had somehow found a way to keep her docile. If docile was a word they could even use for Commander Layla Shepard.

Madison examined the screens above the examination table. "Blood pressure is stable at 127 over 79."

Noah tightened the restraints around the subject's wrists, ankles, and chest. Reaper technology was unstable, and he wasn't taking any chances. "Begin initialization."

Madison injected the adrenaline slowly, her gaze constantly shifting between the subject and the bio-readings. The machines did the rest of the work.

A spike in blood pressure. Rapid eye movement. His eyes snapped open, staring straight ahead. A brief, rattling breath before they closed once more. The readings rapidly shifted back to baseline.

"Failed to initialize," Noah murmured to himself as he moved over to the computer and recorded the results. Madison suppressed an irritated sigh. She was afraid of this. Reaper technology was unpredictable- it was possible that a human body would reject the synthetic components entirely.

Reluctantly, she set up a comm to The Illusive Man. He would want to know the results of the test right away.

" _Shepard is still alive."_

Harbinger seethed. The remaining forces on Horizon had failed to complete the job after he'd taken his leave. Something like rage brewed inside of the ancient machine. If organics excelled at anything, it was dying. Why couldn't this one human woman master the skill? He'd been unable to recover the commander's body and now… now she was alive. Again.

Sovereign had already perished at her hands. Shepard was an impediment to everything they needed to accomplish. Harbinger considered the situation for some time. For a single organic being to be so influential in galactic events...

Shepard needed to be killed, yes, but also studied. Understood. He needed to be prepared to handle any other 'Shepards' that might surface after he'd finally dispatched this one.

He looked in on The Illusive Man- another of his puppets. The indoctrination was slight; patient. For all of the man's wealth, power and influence, he still had no idea. Harbinger intended to keep it that way. Indirect control of Cerberus was valuable, and he needed to maintain it.

The idea to integrate Reaper technology into an organic body had been Harbinger's, though the human he whispered to saw it as an opportunity to advance his race. To defeat the Reapers. The Reaper General would have laughed if he was able. Humans were so overconfident. More so than any other organics he'd encountered. And it would be their downfall.

News of the failed attempt to awaken Project Scythe had just reached the Illusive Man. Harbinger silently retrieved the information. The project was complete. At last, it could be used for its intended purpose- the destruction of Layla Shepard.

Dr. Paige checked her charts once more. She couldn't understand where they'd gone wrong. The initialization should have been a resounding success. What had they missed?

She examined the subject once more. Slow, steady breaths. Dirty-blonde hair spilling over the pillow. Another spike in blood pressure, much like the one before. This time, his hands twitched against their restraints. His lips parted, moving as if he was attempting to speak.

 _ **Assuming DIRECT control….**_


	2. Chapter 2

"Agh! Damnit!" Shepard gripped the sides of the examination table, gritting her teeth as Chakwas pulled the shrapnel from her shoulder. Another sharp pain.

"Fuck! At least give me some painkillers if you're just gonna tear me apart like-" The next words died on her lips as the doctor removed another piece of shrapnel. A roar rose up in Shepard's throat as the forceps reached the third piece. "I'll… I'll fucking kill you, Chakwas…"

The doctor merely smiled, focusing on her task. "I believe you owe me about four hundred deaths by my count." The third piece came free easily enough. "Just like old times, eh, Commander?"

Garrus ran into the med-bay, obviously winded. Bullet holes in his armor, deep claw marks along one of the arms- he looked as if he was the one who should have been sitting on the exam table. "Shepard! Is she alright? That was a hell of a lot of blood…" Chakwas frowned. "Vakarian! Some privacy, if you don't mind!" The doctor made a motion as if to shield the commander's bare torso from view. From the waist up, her bra was the only thing covering her. The wound on her shoulder was still bleeding profusely. Dark, sweat-soaked curls covered half of her face. Her usual, tan skin tone was almost gone, replaced with a touch of pallor from the blood loss. She looked wild. Shepard shrugged, apparently unphased.

"I'm fine, Garrus. Some dead bastard just got a piece of me, that's all. Nothing we haven't been through before."

The Turian made an annoyed clicking noise with his mandibles. "That was before I went to your memorial service. Now, I get to worry. I'm entitled." Despite his words of conviction, he still averted his gaze. Always the gentleman. Shepard had only just opened her mouth to reply when Miranda strolled in as well. This kind of thing was never good news. Layla threw her free hand into the air in exasperation. "Why don't we just throw a goddamn party in here while we're at it? Crack open a bottle or two."

Miranda's face was buried in a datapad. "Apologies for the interruption, Shepard-"

"Oh no, by all means, call the fucking Yeoman and the Pilot in here, too…" Shepard bit out, restraining a scream as the last piece of shrapnel was pulled free.

Miranda shot the commander an exasperated look. "I wouldn't bother a wounded soldier unless it was urgent. The Illusive Man wants to speak with you. Immediately."

Layla let out a slow sigh as the medi-gel was applied to her wound. "I already briefed your boss on what just happened at Horizon. The hell does he want now?"

Miranda tossed Shepard a robe from the bin beside her. She caught it reflexively, pulling it on with an annoyed glare. "Just hurry up and patch him through." Nodding, Lawson opened up a remote comm. The hologram flared to life. "Shepard, there's been a development."

"Worse than getting my ass handed to me by the collectors and their circus of bio-freaks? Great." She hesitated for a moment. "You don't usually speak with me in front of the rest of the crew… what's going on?"

"Actually, it's good news. It affects everyone on the ship. Some of my brightest minds have been developing something very special. A weapon. One that should prove most useful in your battle against the collectors… and the Reapers."

"Sounds good to me. So tell me, how much firepower am I gonna be packing?"

A slight chuckle. "It's not that kind of weapon, Shepard. I'm talking about something far more valuable than a mere firearm. What I'm giving you… is a soldier."

"I've got soldiers already, Tim. Getting more every day."

"This one is different. Hand-engineered and enhanced… with Reaper technology."

A thick silence swept through the room. Garrus was the first to break it. "Have you lost your mind?! Do you have any idea how dangerous-"

"I said your people could _watch_ the discussion, not join it," the Illusive man snapped. Shepard buried her face in her hand. She knew that Cerberus was constantly pushing boundaries, but this one? To release something like that amongst the public- amongst her crew?

"You're out of your damn mind if you think I'm going to allow something like that on my ship-"

"The _gracious_ _lease_ I'm extending you for the Normandy is easily revoked, Shepard. This isn't a request, and it isn't negotiable. You need to take advantage of every resource you can, and I need to field test this soldier immediately, so my people can begin to make more as soon as possible."

"Not only are you leaving me holding a nuke, but you haven't even _tested_ the damn thing, yet?!"

"No better way to test a soldier than in the heat of combat. I'm sure you of all people can understand that, Shepard. I expect your crew will put him through his paces; break him in."

Shepard stood, glaring down at the hologram. "And just when are you planning on dumping this thing in my lap?" she bit out. EDI's voice echoed overhead, drawing the attention of everyone around.

"Commander, there is a Cerberus shuttle currently docking. They have all the necessary clearance. Boarding now." Shepard massaged the bridge of her nose, letting out a ragged sigh. He had to be joking. There was no way…

The Illusive Man chuckled once more. "Ahead of schedule. Be sure to protect my investment, Shepard."


	3. Chapter 3

Thanks for reading!

* * *

Stepping into her fatigues with a wince, Shepard replayed the Illusive Man's words again in her mind. While it was true that they needed to do everything in their power to stop the Reapers, assembling some… _abomination_ was taking things a bit far- even for her. Holstering her pistol, she raked her curls back and prepared herself for the nonsense that was certainly awaiting her in the comm room. Garrus, Jack and Kasumi waited for her outside of the med bay. Jack rushed her as soon as the doors had opened.

"What the Hell, Shepard?! We're just bringing Reaper tech onto the ship now?"

Layla glared the other woman down. She was in no mood for this right now. "How about you get out of my face and let me see what's going on, first?" Jack's upper lip curled up into a snarl. She returned the glare the shorter woman was giving her, but fell silent. Garrus and Kasumi were silent as the four of them made their way into the comm room, but Shepard knew they wanted to grill her about it as well. At least they were armed. If this meeting went south, they'd be prepared. A small comfort.

What awaited Layla in the comm room was far from what she'd expected. Miranda was speaking to two scientists, their crisp lab coats bearing the Cerberus insignia. Behind them, leaning against the side of the table was a hooded figure. From the build, she could tell it was a man. Shepard approached the three members of Cerberus, the expression on her face making it clear that she was unamused. "Now's the time for someone to start explaining things to me. Quickly." Her gaze shifted from the scientists to the hooded stranger in the back of the room. Her voice seemed to command his attention. He stood upright, turning to face her.

Layla's hand flinched towards her pistol. A pair of wild eyes glared at her from beneath the gray hood. One hazel, the other a dull red that glowed with what she could only describe as malice. He took a step forward and she immediately drew her weapon. "That's close enough." He seemed to reign himself in at the words, tilting his head back as he examined her. In the light, she could make out a flash of dirty-blonde hair- a slight stubble around his mouth and chin. The scar over his left eye was striking. She idly wondered if it was a battle wound, or the result of the experiments Cerberus had done.

The man was silent, his features twisting into a slight scowl as he stepped back. She released the tension from her shoulders and lowered her gun. Her guard was up, now. There was no way she was about to holster her weapon. The female scientist stepped forward. "I realize this is abrupt, Commander. But I have my orders."

Shepard rolled her eyes. "And if I order you to get this thing off of my ship?" The woman merely offered her a grave expression and a slow shake of the head.

"You can stop talking about me as if I'm not here."

The man's voice cut through the tension in the room. It was a commanding sound that sent an errant chill up Shepard's spine. She shot him a look that could curdle dairy. "You will speak when you're spoken to or you'll speak into the muzzle of my gun." She returned her attention to the woman before her. "How do I know your little pet here won't try to kill me?"

"There _is_ a failsafe. Cerberus controls his life." A moment of hesitation. "In layman's terms, if he doesn't do as we ask, we flip a switch. Stop his heart."

Jack let out a bark of laughter. "Well hot damn."

Shepard hesitated for a moment. While the information was slightly reassuring, it bothered her for another reason. As far as she could see, this was a man. One that was, for all intents and purposes, a slave to Cerberus. She shook off the thought. It wasn't as if she really had a choice in the matter. The sooner she got these scientists off of her ship, the sooner she could try to put a pin in this. "Very well. Relay any other information to Miranda. After that, I want you off my ship."

The two scientists didn't argue, merely turning their attention to Miranda. Shepard eyed the strange man once more. She gripped her pistol just a bit tighter, her already pale knuckles nearly turning white. "You. Follow me," she bit out.

The man shrugged, but complied, following after her as she left the room. Garrus briefly touched her arm, wordlessly asking if she needed backup. She shook her head no. Having extra guns would be useful, but it showed weakness. If she couldn't take out one man- super soldier or otherwise- she wasn't fit to be Commander.

The man walked just ahead of her, his steps slow and deliberate. He still hadn't spoken. The members of the crew that were milling about the deck looked on curiously, a few whispering amongst themselves. "Are you armed?" she murmured. He merely glanced over his shoulder at her as they walked.

When he didn't respond, she jabbed the muzzle into his spine. "Don't make me ask again." He stopped immediately. He still didn't speak, his fingers slowly unfastening his jacket. Turning to face her, he showed her the body armor that he wore. Standard issue Elkoss gear, no weapons. She gathered the fabric of his jacket in her free hand, checking him at all angles. She released him with a slight scowl. He was clean. Still, that didn't mean he wasn't dangerous. "Just keep moving," she growled, jabbing him once more with her gun.

He smirked, silent as he allowed her to lead him into the depths of the ship. The number of visible crew members dwindled as they walked. Before long, they arrived at a small door, secluded in a darkened corner of the hangar. Shepard gave a frustrated sigh as she opened it. "Get in."

The small room was just that; a closet, six by six foot at best, with one corner heaped full of basic supplies. MREs and spare medi-gel, mostly. While the man complied with Shepard's request, he turned to face her with something dangerously close to a smirk.

Removing his hood at last, he held her gaze. "Does this comfort you, Shepard? Keeping me in a cage?"

Layla sneered. The way he spoke pissed her off- as if he was superior to her. She raised the gun to his eye level, her brown eyes focused intently on her target. "What would make me happy is pulling this trigger." She lingered for a long moment, considering it. Stopping the Collectors was what mattered right now. She didn't need the Illusive Man throwing a bitch fit when she still needed his resources. Still, she wasn't about to just let his little science project wander the deck of her ship.

"Get comfortable. These are your new quarters." She gestured towards him with her weapon, ordering him to back away. When he did, she took a large step back. "EDI, lock this door. Open it for no one except me. If our new 'guest' needs anything, he can tell you. I'll handle it myself."

The doors whirred shut, a few beeps confirming that they'd been locked. Reluctantly, Layla holstered her weapon. She didn't like this- playing prison guard on her own ship. But it was a necessary evil. At least until she could figure out what to do with their unwanted 'guest'.


	4. Chapter 4

Fatigue.

That was what it was called. From the moment he'd assumed control of this body, the Reaper General hadn't had a moment's rest. Cerberus had immediately subjected him to any number of tests. Motor function, speech, psych evaluation. They seemed somewhat troubled by his lack of memories. His current body had belonged to an ex-Alliance Lieutenant who had- like so many others- defected to Cerberus. The memory loss was quickly written off when they realized he was functional in all other areas. A soldier didn't need baggage, apparently. They'd all but shipped him out to the Normandy like a supply crate. Shepard had thrown him into a closet like one, as well.

His feet had become sore before long, and leaning against the wall wasn't helping. With a hard sigh, he slid down onto the floor. Organic bodies were pathetically frail. It had only been a couple of hours and already he could feel a gnawing sensation in his abdomen. He'd never remained in an organic body long enough to need to concern himself with its upkeep. He suspected the sensation was hunger. That was problematic, considering his inability to leave the room. Eating, sleeping, grooming… it was a wonder that organic life advanced at _all_ with all of the tedium required to maintain it.

Shepard didn't seem to care about his organic needs, and he would be damned if he was going to ask for her help. He'd very nearly forgotten the purpose of his mission and killed her on sight. After everything she'd done to derail his plans thus far, it was more than tempting. Unfortunately, he'd learn nothing about her if he killed her this soon. Rage was difficult to manage in this body, he'd have to be more careful. The gnawing in his stomach had worsened considerably, and a dull ache was building in his head. Those damn scientists had likely taken too much blood for their tests...

Climbing to his feet, he set about examining the crates in the room with him. He lingered on one labeled 'MRE - Individual'. He recalled the term from his research. The contents of this container were edible- hopefully. He tried the lid mechanism. Locked. A moment's hesitation before he channeled his biotics, using a Warp blast on the container, followed immediately by a precise Reave attack. The resulting explosion destroyed the crate almost entirely, mangled bits of metal and plastic littering the small space.

The contents didn't seem too worse for wear. He reached down, picking up one of the small, blue packets. He carefully examined the label for a moment. Apple Turnover, for human consumption. It seemed safe enough to consume without destroying his current body. Tearing open the package, he examined the small, spongy square that had been inside. With a shrug, he took a bite. Eating was simple enough. This body seemed to already know how to process food. Eating wasn't an unpleasant experience, just tedious. Grabbing a few more packets, he resumed his seat on the floor. At least he wouldn't starve. Now he just had to wait for Shepard.

* * *

"You can't just leave him locked in a closet, Shepard," Jacob said. He looked around the comm room at everyone in attendance, hoping someone would second his opinion. He was more or less certain that Jack, Garrus and Zaeed weren't interested in the human rights implications of holding the man prisoner and in a space the size of a cell. Jacob examined the datapad in his hand for a moment. "Reaper tech or no, he's a human being, Commander. Harvey Drayson. Says here he was ex-Alliance before this." Shepard fought back a scowl. Why did people always think she'd defer to the Alliance about every single thing? Because of her father? That was a laugh.

Kasumi spoke for the first time. "If you release him into the crew quarters, I could keep an eye on him for you. Least I can do." The slight smile Jacob gave her seemed to bring a slight flush to her cheeks. Shepard leaned against the table with a shrug. She wanted to trust Kasumi's opinion, but she had always been biased when it came to Jacob. And Jacob was too damn soft.

Zaeed let out a distasteful grunt. "I got better shit to do than babysitting. Hell, I got better shit to do than _talking_ about it. He gets uppity, shoot 'im. Done."

Miranda crossed her arms over her chest. "I hope by 'uppity' you mean threatening your life." Zaeed resolutely ignored her statement.

Layla opened her mouth to speak, but Mordin beat her to the punch. "Jacob is right. Solitary confinement, bad for mental health. Could cause loneliness. Violent outbursts."

The Commander let her next words die on her lips. Solus always had a way of making her rethink her actions, and he did it without making her feel like she was going soft. Garrus was avoiding her gaze. He'd made his opinion more than clear. Jack seemed to be out of witty retorts after the doctor had said his piece.

Pinching the bridge of her nose, Shepard let out a ragged sigh. This entire situation had 'disaster' written all over it. "I hate to admit it, but Mordin is right. Treat a man like an animal, that's what he'll become." She met the Doctor's gaze. "So we'll treat him like a soldier. Doesn't mean I have to like it. Everyone keep an eye on him. Anything seems off, report to me." Layla looked up at the ceiling. "That includes you, EDI. You can keep an eye on him when the rest of us can't."

The AI's voice filled the room. "Understood. On that topic, Commander-" The faint sound of an explosion interrupted the statement. Everyone in the room visibly tensed, Zaeed and Garrus already heading for the door. Shepard grabbed her gun as she raced to join them.

"Dammit, what is it now?"

Shepard headed directly for the hangar. Explosions on her ship just hours after taking in Cerberus' new pet? There were no such things as coincidences. The rest of the crew looked on, wide-eyed as she and the two armed men sprinted in the direction of the sound. Everyone else had hung back a bit, not wanting to get in the way. Three weapons were immediately trained on the closet door.

"Open it up, EDI," Shepard commanded. She tensed, the fresh injury on her shoulder playing up a bit. Layla was ready for just about anything but what she saw when the doors finally opened.

Sitting on the floor amongst bits of broken metal and MRE wrappers was the offender in question. From the look of it, he was on his third cake. He looked up at Shepard, still chewing. He didn't even flinch at the sight of the firearms. He took a moment to swallow before he spoke. "Shepard. Can I help you with something?"

A shot rang out beside his ear. The wall was singed where it had struck. Even just an inch to the left would have been fatal. He flinched for a brief moment, glaring at her. The barrel of her gun was still smoking.

 _He's_ a biotic _, too? Damn.. that complicates things.._ "Harvey, right? You're off to a bad start, blowing shit up on my ship."

"Ah, this is _your_ ship. I must not have noticed. There's a rather large Cerberus emblem, just on the hull, there."

Layla aimed down her sights at him with a grin. "Let _one_ more smug remark come out of your mouth and I'll shove the next MRE up your ass." A beat passed between them. "You've been in here for all of two hours. Was that really necessary?"

He rose to his feet, briefly eyeing the two armed men behind her. A non-threat. "When you locked me away, you didn't exactly give a timeframe for your return," he replied bluntly. A blaze of golden biotics erupted around his form, electrifying the air with their power. The gun trembled in Shepard's hand for a moment before she could steady herself. The battle on Horizon was still fresh in her mind, and the last time she'd seen biotics like that...

 ** _"_** ** _Your death is assured."_**

Shepard tensed at the memory. She knew it was just the Reaper tech causing the effect, but she still involuntarily squeezed the trigger. Another shot rang out beside Harvey, leaving his cybernetic eye blazing red again. "Get ahold of yourself, Shepard," he growled.

A slight gasp left Layla as she holstered her weapon. _Hold it together, Shepard. You're not on the field. You're safe on the ship…_

"You two handle him." She straightened, burying the unease she felt. Garrus and Zaeed were capable enough. "That battle was rough on me. I need some rest." Exhaling as much tension as she could, she turned and headed towards her quarters without another word. Seeing Kaidan, fighting the Collectors, being wounded, and now this? Even she had her limits, and this was one. She didn't register much of anything until her bed rose up to meet her, the smell of freshly washed sheets enveloping her as she buried her face in her pillow. She wouldn't be any good to anyone right now. Not while she was still feeling…

Fear.

Layla pushed down the thought. She was just tired. It wasn't fear. She hadn't afforded herself that luxury for some time. No, it was something else. It had to be. Something that didn't mean she was weak. Something that didn't mean she was inadequate.

…..fatigue.

That was what it was called.


	5. Chapter 5

_**A/N: Welcome back all, and thanks for the reviews! I'll try to make the chapters a bit longer moving forward. I won't be able to post every day that way, but there'll be more substance when I do. Enjoy!**_

* * *

Jacob had just made it to the hangar as Shepard was storming out. He stared her down for a moment as she shoved him out of the way. The commander could be unbearably moody at times- well, _most_ of the time. But given what they'd seen on Horizon, he decided not to complain. This time. Approaching the closet doorway, he briefly examined the state of the room before meeting Harvey's gaze. "Welcome aboard. I'm Jacob Taylor." He extended his hand to shake but pulled back when he saw the look on the man's face. Nodding, he took a step back instead to give the man some space. "We've all had a situation forced on us. No need for things to be hostile."

Folding his arms across his chest, Harvey took a step forward. "If you don't want things to be hostile, they need to get those guns out of my face." He looked over Jacob's shoulder at Garrus and Zaeed. They had yet to lower their weapons, both looking more than ready to destroy him at a moment's notice. With clear hesitation, Jacob raised his hand, signaling for them to stand down. Garrus took longer than Zaeed to comply, his target remaining in his sights for as long as possible.

Harvey shifted his gaze to the Turian, noting his scars. No stranger to battle, apparently. This one, much like Shepard, appreciated the danger inherent in inviting an unknown quantity like him onto the ship. Direct orders or otherwise. He would be a problem. That much was clear.

Jacob holstered his own weapon as well. "Apologies, Lieutenant Drayson. Even unarmed, we can't just leave you unattended. At least not for a while. Safety concerns, you understand."

Harvey scoffed a bit at the title. "Ranks are not necessary. I'm not with the Alliance anymore."

Jacob nodded his understanding. "Either way, let's go get you cleaned up; arrange for some better quarters." There was hesitation in the blonde man's features. He seemed to be considering something.

"These quarters are fine," he said, finally. And they were. He just needed a place to rest his organic body when it inevitably became too fatigued. There was room enough here to do so. Besides that, he had no desire to congregate with the rest of the crew. He was here to study Shepard. The others were of no interest and would likely be more of an impediment than anything.

Looking around the small space, Jacob tilted his head. This was hardly enough space for one person to live in. "If you're sure…" he replied hesitantly. "I'll have it cleared out and a cot brought in, then. In the meantime, I'll get you a clean set of fatigues. Garrus and Zaeed can escort you to the showers."

Zaeed groaned aloud. "For fuck's sake… You want us to tuck him in and read him a story, too?"

Garrus just wanted to get a point-blank shot in. No questions, no taking chances. He'd already mourned his best friend once. The thought of having to do it all over again because of Cerberus? His grip tightened around the rifle. "Go take a load off, Massani. I've got him."

Not needing to be told twice, Zaeed immediately excused himself in the direction of the bar. Garrus gestured in the direction of the men's restrooms as Jacob took his leave. He sniffed the air around Harvey as they walked in step. There wasn't a single trace of fear in the man. None. Even though he was in a strange place, surrounded by hostile people that he didn't know. That fact alone deeply unsettled the turian. It wasn't long before they'd reached the showers. The Turian sneered as that damned cybernetic eye of his darted over to observe him. Garrus responded by jabbing the man in his side and nodding towards the empty room. "I'll be right outside this door. Try anything, and I mean _anything_? I'll repaint the showers with you."

Harvey shot him a predatory grin. "Of course." True to his word, the Turian lingered just outside of the entrance. Close enough to take out a target, but far enough for him not to see anything he didn't want to.

Harvey moved to the sink, observing his reflection in the mirror. He smirked. No one here trusted him, but it wasn't because of the body he was occupying. No, the body was working perfectly. It had even triggered erroneous feelings of pity in a few of Shepard's underlings. It had also invited more tedium, as now they expected him to groom himself. Of course, it would be abnormal if he refused to do so. Shedding the clothing Cerberus had offered him, he stepped into one of the stalls, wincing for a moment at the cold, metal tile beneath his feet.

From the information he'd gathered, the process was fairly simple. Use a machine to access a stream of water, saturate his skin with it, and then use a combination of animal fat or plant oil and caustic soda- 'soap'- to cleanse his body before rinsing it away. He examined the square bar beside the temperature controls. This was likely what he needed to use. Delicate motions like operating a control panel were still somewhat alien to him. Pulling a trigger was the most common use he'd had for an organic body. Clumsy fingers finally found the correct buttons. A steady stream of water began to jet from the faucets- so why was he suddenly jumping out of the stall and shivering?

The temperature must have been wrong. Shivering was a mammalian response to cold. He'd have to find a setting that didn't trigger a defensive reaction. Too much heat or cold could damage the frail skin of this body. Avoiding the spray of water as much as he could, he adjusted the temperature. Gingerly, he tested the water until it was at a bearable level. Slight wisps of steam had begun to fill the room. Cautiously, he stepped into the stream.

He stood beneath the water for a long moment, trying to figure out why he had yet to get on with the process. It seemed that his body had been in distress without him realizing it. Aches he didn't know he had were quickly being dissolved by the soothing warmth and steady pressure of the water. He found himself closing his eyes and leaning against the wall as the stream of water covered him. A slight, involuntary sound rose from his throat. "Mm…" His eyes snapped open.

 _What was that?_

Some biological reaction, he was sure. Whatever it was, it didn't seem to be setting off any internal alarms. It was likely harmless. Reaching for the ivory square, he rubbed it over his body and then rinsed away the lather that had formed. With a reluctance he couldn't understand, he turned off the stream of water. It was done. A slight whirr signaled the start of a forceful barrage of warm air that dried him from head to toe. At least he wouldn't need to struggle with that aspect of grooming. When he returned to the sink, there was a small bundle of clothing sitting on the counter. Cerberus colors. It was likely for him.

On top of the bundle was a small, plastic stick with bristles attached. _A toothbrush._ And a small, red container labeled 'Anti-Perspirant'. Another plastic stick, with teeth. _A comb._ He recalled well enough how they were to be used, cleaning his teeth and tongue before applying the aluminum compound to his underarms. His hair… he didn't know what to do with it. He ran the comb through it until the strands no longer caught on its teeth. The tedium of this process was almost enough to make him abandon the mission altogether. All of this effort, just to pass as one of these creatures. _Hopefully, this will be worth it._

As he stepped out of the restroom, Harvey felt his vision suddenly begin to adjust to much darker surroundings than before. The artificial sunlight had dimmed considerably. It must have been getting late. The effect seemed to only worsen his fatigue. His eyelids felt heavier than before. Seeing Jacob yawning just outside the door wasn't helping. He quickly found himself doing the same. A flash of anger at this new, involuntary action.

The turian seemed annoyed to see him, even groomed. Jacob stood beside him with a much different expression. The man examined his clothing, making sure it fit properly. It was clear what he had in mind; if he dressed the same as everyone on the ship, they would become accustomed to his presence that much quicker.

"Looks good. I've got a couple more sets waiting for you in the hangar. Actually managed to fit a cot in there pretty easily once we got all of the crates out." He hesitated for a moment. "You know, if you change your mind about staying in there-"

"I'm sure it's fine," Harvey held a hand up to stop him. While he was pleased that his disguise generated feelings of empathy, the extra attention annoyed him.

Jacob nodded, his gaze shifting to Garrus. "You can't watch him 24/7, Vakarian. Let EDI take over for a while. It's time to eat anyway." He ignored the turian's dismissive shrug. "You hungry, Drayson?"

"No. I'm going back to the hangar." Not waiting for the other two to respond, he turned on his heel and headed down the hall. Garrus glared down at Jacob as he held out a hand to prevent him from following. "I'm not leaving him unattended while Shepard is asleep."

"Shepard knows how to lock her door," Jacob shot back. Garrus attempted to push past him again, only to be shoved back once more. "She also said to treat him like a soldier. We don't babysit soldiers. EDI will let us know if there's anything unusual going on. Com'on, Garrus… you haven't even taken off your armor, man. Let Chakwas take a look at you and then get some rest. The Commander's not the only one who needs some."

Grudgingly, the turian holstered his rifle. This was what Shepard wanted, but it still didn't sit right with him. Still, arguing about it wasn't going to make any difference. He offered no reply. Silently, he headed off towards the med-bay. He wouldn't be much good to anyone if he didn't rest up.

* * *

Layla suddenly sat upright, looking around the room wildly and gasping for air. Sweat beaded off of her cold skin, curls plastered to her face. Her heart was still racing, even as her mind registered the familiar surroundings. Yet another nightmare that she couldn't recall. They'd gotten worse since Cerberus had rebuilt her. Not getting a chance to properly wind down wasn't helping matters, either. She peeled herself away from the sweat-soaked sheets and stood.

A quick glance at the clock let her know that she'd been out for almost fourteen hours. It was practically time for breakfast. The rest had helped, if only slightly. Her mind was still racing. Those hideous abominations they'd fought… the Collectors spiriting all of those people away, presumably to make _more_. She shuddered. She'd seen some sick things in her career, but the Reaper creations were easily the worst.

EDI's voice came over the intercom. "Mr. Vakarian is waiting for you in the mess hall, Commander."

"Got it," Shepard murmured, sitting down at her desk. She examined her computer display for a moment. She had a few new messages. One from Tim, which she promptly ignored- he was likely just bitching about EDI's report from the previous day. A brief one from her father, Steven Hackett, promising that he would visit her soon. She smiled at the message despite herself. He reminded her of simpler times; eating steak empanadas by the waterfront together, the comforting bustle of the city in the background. Buenos Aires… when this was all over, she wanted to go back. Even just for a day.

Her mouth set into a hard line as she saw the last email. It had been sent just hours after she'd left Horizon. It was from Kaidan. When she'd seen him yesterday, he'd taken her into his arms; the warm, familiar arms that had softened even the Butcher of Torfan. Then, before she'd had a chance to really enjoy their reunion, he'd laid into her for allying with Cerberus. Then she had handled it… poorly. Like most stressful situations, she'd handled it by punching him in the jaw as soon as he'd started to complain. Satisfying in the moment, but now there was a wave of guilt forming a knot in her stomach. She sat there for a long moment before gathering up the resolve to read it.

Layla,

I'm sorry for what I said back on Horizon. I was out of line- maybe I deserved that hit. I spent two years pulling myself back together after you went down with the Normandy. It took me a long time to get over my guilt for surviving and move on. I'd finally let my friends talk me into going out for drinks with a doctor on the Citadel. Nothing serious, but trying to let myself have a life again, you know?

Then I saw you, and everything pulled hard to port. You were standing in front of me, but you were with Cerberus. I guess I really don't know who either of us is anymore. Do you even remember that night before Ilos? That night meant everything to me... maybe it meant as much to you. But a lot has changed in the last two years and I can't just put that aside.

But please be careful. I've watched too many people close to me die - on Eden Prime, on Virmire, on Horizon, on the Normandy. I couldn't bear it if I lost you again. If you're still the woman I remember I know you'll find a way to stop these Collector attacks. But Cerberus is too dangerous to be trusted. Watch yourself.

When things settle down a little... maybe... I don't know. Just take care.

-Kaidan

Layla stared at the screen for a long while, rereading the letter no less than six times before tearing her eyes away. An apology? Was he serious? It had been two years for him, but for her? It had been mere weeks since she'd let him tear down the walls she'd spent so many years building. Kaidan Alenko had challenged her very identity.

Commander Shepard was an Alliance legend, just like her father before her. The first human Spectre; cunning, ruthless, willing to do any and everything to complete the mission. But this one man… he'd changed her. Altered her very foundation. Now he had turned his back on her and wanted to _apologize_?

"Go to Hell, Kaidan," she told the screen before moving to shower and get dressed. There were more important things to be concerned with. Like the nuke she'd just agreed to keep on the ship. EDI hadn't alerted her yet, which was a good sign. Still, it didn't mean she was comfortable with their current situation. She got herself ready in record time, securing her curls in a bun on top of her head as she left her quarters and headed for the mess hall.


	6. Chapter 6

Everything seemed to be business as usual…. More or less. Steam billowed from the kitchen, carrying hints of coffee and browning meat. Gardner certainly wasn't wasting the rations she'd bought. The noise level was easily half what was normal at breakfast. Many members of the crew were just whispering amongst themselves. Shepard's gaze searched the room until she found the reason why. Moving towards the unoccupied end of the main table with a tray heaped with food, was Drayson. Despite wearing Cerberus fatigues, he still stuck out like a sore thumb. Thanks, in no small part, to his aloofness and rather attention-grabbing cybernetic eye. Retrieving her own breakfast, Layla nodded at Garrus as she approached Drayson's table. They could talk later, whatever it was. Whenever it was urgent, he made a point to come directly to her quarters.

"Harvey," she said as she set her tray down. She took a seat across from him at the otherwise empty half of the table. A few members of the crew actually stood to eat their meals. "Popular, aren't you?" He looked up from his food just to roll his eyes at her. Shepard couldn't help but blink at the amount of food in front of him. Eggs, bacon, toast…. They were all heaped so high they barely fit on the tray. "Sure your eyes aren't too big for your stomach?"

He grabbed another slice of bacon and took a bite. "I'm hungry," he replied bluntly. Immediately, he returned his full attention to his meal. Shepard merely nodded in response, taking a spoonful of oatmeal before scanning the room. It was somehow even quieter than before. She noticed Harvey eyeing the bowl in front of her, his nostrils flaring slightly as steam curled up from the pile of oats, cinnamon, and brown sugar.

"Sweet tooth?" she asked as she took another bite. He tilted his head. For a moment, he seemed perplexed by the question. "Yeah, maybe," he muttered. Letting his fork clatter against the table, he focused on her. "What is this, Shepard? Keeping me company, trying to build trust, or are you just watching me?"

"You're awfully suspicious for the odd man out," she shot back, taking another bite.

"I see. You're afraid."

Shepard held his gaze. "Wow. You're _brand_ new. I'm not afraid of anything."

"Is that right, Shepard?" Harvey paused, setting down his fork. For a moment- just a moment- his left eye flared a brilliant red. Layla felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end, every inch of her screaming that something was wrong. Her right hand twitched to where her gun should be.

A slight feeling of dread crept up on her as she realized she wasn't armed. She fought it down. "So you have a few biotics," she bit out. "So do I. Doesn't mean I couldn't destroy you in a fight."

Jack's voice rang out beside her. "We talkin about fighting, now?" she took a seat next to the commander, half a sandwich in hand. She gave Layla a rough, but playful shove. "I was just getting bored… Whose ass do we get to kick?"

Shepard shoved her back, almost snorting with laughter as Jack nearly lost control of her sandwich. Jack had been on the ship for just a couple of weeks, but she and the Commander were fast friends, it seemed. Even Grunt had commented on it, asking if the two were related. It wasn't too much of a stretch. Layla and Jack were much the same, except for the fact that the Commander's path in life had been swayed by her father and the Alliance. With her personality and without those influences? She might have been in one of Purgatory's cells, right next to Jack.

Layla took another bite of her oatmeal, idly creating a small quasar with the cinnamon sprinkled over the top. "I get the impression Harvey here thinks I'm afraid of him. I was just reminding him who's in charge."

Jack took another bite before throwing the rest of her sandwich down on Shepard's tray. She examined the blonde for a moment before shaking her head. "He's got some muscle on him but I wouldn't be worried about that shit. Won't matter if he doesn't know how to fight." She looked directly at him, sizing him up. "He's a biotic, right? Put him next to me and see how long he lasts. Analyze him or whatever while I'm kicking his ass."

Shepard finished her meal, narrowing her eyes at the man across from her. It wasn't a bad idea. Quantifying his abilities would definitely go a long way towards putting herself and the rest of the crew at ease. Jack was busy eyeing the empty tray in front of Harvey. Watching him set down his fork for the last time, she shook her head. She looked down her nose at him as if she were wearing glasses. " _That_ was fuckin impressive."

Decisively, Layla tapped her spoon against the side of her empty bowl. A quick sparring match couldn't hurt anything. They were still almost a day out from Haestrom, after all. She rose from her seat, scanning the room for Garrus. "The two of you, suit up and meet me in the shuttle bay in fifteen. There's something I need to take care of, first."

Making her way over to the corner where the turian sat, Shepard gave him a gentle slug on the shoulder before taking a seat beside him. "What's up, Garrus? EDI said you were looking for me."

He tracked Harvey and Jack's movements for a long moment before replying. "Please tell me you appreciate how _insane_ this is…"

"Of course I do. I'm just… out of options."

"There are always options," Garrus shot back in his usual biting, but gentle way. "Do what the Illusive Man wants. Take him out on the field. Let him take point. If he happens to get injured, well, no one could blame you for not getting him back to Chakwas in time…"

For a long moment, Layla said nothing. Between the two of them, they had a tendency to take a lot of drastic actions that they didn't need to. Even worse, she always wanted to. "If things take a turn… I'll give it some thought," she said, finally. "Still, no one died last night. Could also consider giving him a chance. You know we need all the help we can get."

Garrus sighed. "Isn't that why we're on our way to get Tali? Drayson is an unknown entity."

"So was Cerberus, and yet here we are." She stood, shaking her head. Her voice shifted from gentle to commanding in an instant. Her gaze locked onto his. "Whatever it takes to complete the mission."

* * *

The gentle, orange glow of the active consoles warmed the atmosphere of the empty shuttle bay. Wires, crates and instruments made the room feel less empty, but not by much. The main runway was clear for the moment. It would make a good sparring area.

Shepard was setting up a camera to record the match. Once it was rolling, she looked up at Jack and Harvey. "Biotics only, no weapons." The other two didn't respond, each of them already sizing up their opponent.

They circled each other on the floor for a few moments. He had to know that even with armor and shields, this was a risky match. The way he moved and didn't take his eyes off of her… he wasn't worried. Not in the slightest. He had balls, she'd give him that. "I'll even let you get one in for free," she bit out, her form slowly beginning to pulse and glow with the brilliant azure of her biotics.

The corner of his mouth twitched upward into a smirk. "Foolish of you." Planting his feet, Harvey's expression barely changed. The same golden pulse from before swept throughout his body. Shepard visibly tensed at the sight, but this time, she stood firm. She needed to watch this.

As if to underscore the point, Harvey rushed Jack immediately, striking her with a blinding Reave blast far stronger than appropriate for sparring. She stumbled back into one of the consoles, her shields visibly beginning to disrupt. Composing herself for a brief moment, she used a firm Pull to force him closer, immediately following up with a shockwave blast directly to his chest that sent him flying across the room. He collided with two stacked crates at an unforgiving speed. A sharp exhale as he landed on his stomach.

Shepard smirked, panning the camera as Jack stalked over to him. Harvey still hadn't managed to get back to his feet, his shields critical. Despite that, the golden pulsing of his biotics didn't waver. He staggered to one knee, his hair obscuring half of his face as he eyed the approaching threat. Jack's eyes widened in surprise as she found herself yanked backward into a Singularity. Suddenly, Harvey was back on his feet. A sudden, explosive pulse of energy radiated in the area around him.

All at once, Jack found her shields disabled. "What the-?" she didn't have time to get the question out before another Reave pulse hit her, leaving a deep, bleeding gash in her shoulder. She faltered, stumbling as she nursed the wound. A sudden, sharp Throw knocked Harvey off balance, disrupting his next attack. Shepard ran over quickly, examining her friend's wound with narrowed eyes.

"What part of _sparring_ did you not understand?!" she was practically yelling at Harvey as he leapt to his feet. The biotic field around him was still pulsing; he seemed eager to continue.

"I wasn't aware she was so weak," he said bluntly. "Forgive me."

Jack wrestled away from Shepard, charging up a new attack. "I'll show you weak, you smug son of a-"

Layla snatched the biotic by the back of her neck, holding her in place. "That's enough." Jack snatched away but didn't attempt to attack him again. She started to say something but stormed off instead, swearing under her breath as she left the shuttle bay clutching her shoulder. Shepard hoped she was on her way to the med bay and not to some corner to sulk in. She turned to face Harvey with a sneer.

"Drayson, you were a Marine, you should know better than-"

"No," he cut her off abruptly.

She set her jaw, staring at him. "No?"

He powered down the shields on his armor and leaned against one of the consoles. "Can you be a Marine if you don't remember it?"

Shepard blinked, thinking she had misheard. "You don't remember serving? At all?" He shook his head no.

"How is that possible? Cerberus restored me with all of my memories intact."

He gestured towards the scar on his face and his crimson, cybernetic eye. "Brain damage."

Layla took a step towards him, tilting her head slightly as she considered his words. "Wait.. if you lost your eye and suffered brain damage, wouldn't that wound have been-"

"Fatal?" A tense silence hung in the air between them. It seemed as if that single word was still echoing off of the metal walls. Despite that, he didn't break her gaze. "Yes. It was."

Shepard didn't know what to say. She was having a hard enough time with coming back from the dead and realizing that a large part of the life she had before was gone, likely never to return. Her tone softened, if only slightly. "What _do_ you remember?"

Harvey folded his arms across his chest with a sigh. She watched him idly scratch the stubble that lined his jaw. His gaze was fixed straight ahead on the hatch doors. "I remember... waking up in a Cerberus lab, hooked up to over a dozen machines and missing my left eye." He shifted his gaze back to hers. His expression was unreadable, despite her best efforts. "Consider yourself lucky, Shepard. You got the better end of the deal."

She scoffed. "I'm not so sure about that," a moment of hesitation as she considered her next words, "there are plenty of things I wish I could forget. Just.. start over." Harvey stood upright, a dismissive 'hmm' before he turned to leave the bay.

He paused at the open door for a moment. "Forgetting doesn't change what needs to be done."


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Welcome back! By request, feel free to sample more of my work in the horror genre on:**

 **P**

 **A**

 **T**

 **R**

 **E**

 **O**

 **N**

 **(AngelicSavant)**

* * *

After the sparring incident, Shepard had more or less restricted Harvey to his quarters. It was less about punishing him for what he'd done and more about keeping Jack from 'ripping out his biotic amp and relocating it to his ass'. She'd given things a full day to blow over before giving him the green light to show his face again. He'd observed Shepard briefly, but there was nothing much to note as of yet. The secret to destroying her likely didn't lie with watching her take inventory of thermal clips. Perhaps after lunch, she'd be up to something more relevant to his mission.

Harvey sat on the edge of the small, suspended cot, idly browsing more human social cues on a datapad. He'd been at it for a few hours now, absorbing a wealth of useful information. These creatures were so base and simple that it was almost laughable. Showing empathy just because he was a part of their species, demonstrating trust even though their every instinct led them away from it. Even Shepard had surprised him, showing a slight weakness- pity- when he'd told her that he was without memories. He could see it forming on her face; a subtle softening of her ordinarily fierce features. Her voice had followed, wavering. If it was going to be this simple to pass as human, he wondered why he'd even bothered with using this body.

Something mildly unpleasant tugged at the corners of his mind. This body seemed to cause that quite often, reacting to stimuli he didn't understand. It was difficult to know how to resolve these issues when there was no obvious source of distress. Just now he felt… restless. Pacing the small space didn't help. Pushups didn't, either. Seeking more space, he ventured out of the hangar closet and only felt slightly better.

Before he knew it, he'd made a lap around almost the entire ship and still had no relief to show for it. He lingered outside of the lab, remembering the Salarian doctor. Perhaps he was ill? Knowing how frail humans were, he couldn't rule it out. Nothing would compromise his mission more than suddenly becoming too sick to move. This was closer than the med bay, and probably not a first stop for the majorily human crew. If it was nothing, no one would have to see him in here at all.

That final rationale persuaded him to step inside, his gaze almost immediately coming to rest on Mordin. "Doctor Solus," he started, trying to recall everything he'd learned about these kinds of interactions. "I was wondering if you could help me."

Mordin looked up from the samples strewn about the table in front of him and blinked. "Lieutenant Drayson. How can I help?"

"I…" For some reason, Harvey found himself hesitant. "I'm.. not feeling well."

Mordin turned to face him, approaching with an inquisitive gaze. Wide, expressive eyes searched the human male for signs of injury. "Statement has many implications… Details?"

Harvey visibly faltered. He wasn't sure what to say. "I feel tired… restless.." The human shrank away slightly as the Salarian took his temperature and blood pressure. After a few minutes, Mordin seemed to shake his head at the results.

"Tell me, how is adjustment since boarding Normandy?"

"I don't see what that has to do with-"

"Humor me." Something about the slight smile on the doctor's face put Harvey at ease.

"The crew is mostly avoiding me… Only a few speak to me at all, one of whom I.." he shrugged, not knowing how else to explain it, "...I sent to the med-bay yesterday…"

Mordin paused, considering. "I see. Indulge a whim, please."

"Such as?"

"Reaper technology, fascinating subject. Keeps you alive. Would like to run tests."

There was a moment of clear hesitation as Harvey considered the request. Was it possible that the salarian might glean some sensitive information from such a study? The Reaper general had only just begun his mission. It wouldn't do to have an errant piece of data betray him at this stage…

He quickly pushed the thought away. This single organic was unlikely to uncover anything resembling a threat to his mission, or the next Cycle.

Harvey sighed, taking a seat on the examination table. He winced, feeling the cold metal, even through his fatigues. "If you think it will help."

The tests were minimally invasive. For the next hour, Solus drew blood, took samples and scans.. standard fare. All the while, the salarian fished around for topics of discussion until he found something that actually prompted more than a single sentence in response. Surprisingly enough, it was the topic of the Alliance that had Harvey extremely vocal- even if it was just to disparage them in any number of ways.

Mordin carefully packed away all of his samples and data as if they were made of platinum. "Testing sufficient for now." He turned to face his patient. "Current well-being status?"

Reflexively, Harvey began to question the need to ask such a thing. It wasn't as if he'd received any sort of treatment, yet. Still, he considered the way he felt now compared to an hour prior. Admittedly, there had been a great deal of improvement. He no longer felt anywhere near as distressed as before. "I feel… much better. Did you give me some sort of drug?"

Mordin gave a slight 'hm' that resembled a chuckle. "Close. Conversation." When the explanation was met with a series of confused blinks, he continued. "Preliminary diagnosis.. Lt. Drayson displaying acute loneliness. Was concerned about this. Warned commander against such a development."

Harvey tilted his head, mouth slightly agape as he struggled to process what he was being told. " _Loneliness_? There must be some mistake…"

"No mistake. Homo sapiens, possess 'pack mentality'. Thrive on social interaction. Lieutenant Drayson… outlier."

"That's ridiculous." The words left Drayson's lips even as he started to see the wisdom in the doctor's words. He was no longer synthetic. Organics were bound by hormones, chemical signals, psychological hindrances…

Weak.

Mordin examined the man as he leapt down from the examination table. "My recommendation? Socialize. Get to know crew. New comrades."

 _Comrades?_ The statement was so absurd he didn't even dignify it with a response.

Harvey only half acknowledged the doctor as he spoke. Before long, he left the lab, halfway back to his quarters before reason kicked in. Ignoring the issue wasn't likely to help, and besides, he needed to observe Shepard. Pausing at the elevator doors, he turned and set out to look for her. Best to kill two birds with one stone.

* * *

The commander was conspicuously absent from the areas of the ship where he'd expected her to be. Eventually, the shuttle bay proved to be her hiding place. Dimly lit compared to the rest of the ship, his eyes settled on her immediately as the door opened. She was near the far wall, the sound of precise punches echoing throughout the space as she trained on a practice dummy. The grey, sweat-soaked t-shirt she wore clung to her skin as she swung. A sharp exhale as she threw a cross.

Layla glanced over her shoulder for a brief moment before resuming her stance. A slight, annoyed huff left her between punches. "What the hell are you doing in here, Lieutenant?"

Harvey moved near the training mat, leaning back against one of the nearby consoles. He started to correct her about the title again but decided against it. They all seemed comfortable calling him Lieutenant. Titles seemed excessively important to organics. "I'm just paying my respects to the commanding officer."

"Paying respects?" She threw a right cross that knocked the dummy over, the weight at its base thudding against the floor. "You'll make me feel like I'm dead already."

 ** _You are._**

A slight smirk as he approached. "You said it was safe to move about the cabin. I take it that means the air is clear with Jack?"

Shepard grabbed a towel off the table and dabbed at the beads of sweat on her face and neck. "She's still pissed at you." A quick swig of water. "She's just not in the mood to kill you anymore. If she's anything like me, which I know she is.. that can change." She made a slight beckoning motion with her fingers, eyeing him.

It was a challenge- one he readily answered by stepping onto the mat and assuming a defensive stance. "Well, what do you suggest I do about it?" Harvey stayed out of range for as long as possible as they circled each other. "I can't exactly stay in my quarters forever." Shepard went on the offensive immediately. Three swift punches to his forearms quickly broke his defense. The fourth caught him in the jaw.

She smirked as he recoiled. "No? You seemed pretty comfortable to me."

He lashed out with a small flurry of blows, setting his jaw as Shepard seemed to dodge each one effortlessly. She capitalized on the final failure, rushing in to strike his throat. The clothesline caught him by surprise. Before he knew it, he was winded and on his back, the commander standing over him. He caught his breath before attempting to speak. A dull ache in his throat as he gasped. "I might have been a bit hasty..."

Shepard rested her boot firmly against his chest. A few curls had freed themselves from her bun, spilling onto her forehead. "You're not a fan of admitting when you're wrong, are you?"

The air was electrified as a surge of familiar, golden biotics swept the man's form. Layla made a distasteful clucking noise with her tongue before digging her boot deeper into his chest. "None of that bullshit," she growled. "You fight me like a man, or not at all."

Harvey had only just opened his mouth to offer a retort when the bay doors suddenly opened. It was the turian, Vakarian. He seemed none too pleased to see the Lieutenant, even beneath the commander's boot. "Shepard, we're nearing Haestrom. There's a bit of a.. complication. You should come check this out before we land."

Withdrawing his biotics, Harvey stared up at her. He took a deep breath as she took her weight off of him. "With all due respect commander, you need to take me out there with you. You need the backup."

Layla grabbed her water bottle and took a quick swig. "This is my call. If I say you need to stay here, that's the end of it."

"Shepard-"

"Don't argue with me, Lieutenant," she shot back, grabbing a towel as she moved to follow Garrus. Harvey staggered to his feet, watching them as they left. The turian shot him a warning glare before the door closed. At this rate, he'd never get to analyze Shepard in an actual battle. There had to be a way…

"EDI, where are the emergency exits located?"


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Greetings, all! Sorry for the delay on this chapter. Busy time of year. Thanks again for the reviews! They are much appreciated! ^^**

* * *

"Be careful Shepard, and please... do what you can to keep Reegar alive." A faint whirr and a beep let the commander know that the door had been unlocked. She let out a hard sigh, clearly not looking forward to dodging the sun's harsh rays again- especially not while taking fire. Garrus and Jack hung back a step, waiting for her signal. Layla hesitated at the door, taking her sweet time reloading her gun. There was no telling how many geth were out there.

If possible, it was worse than she'd thought. The parade of destroyers and drones seemed almost endless. Anyone other than Tali Zo'Rah and she'd have left their asses to fry out here on this godforsaken planet.

The two were friends… in a way. If 'friends' meant that the Quarian was the most valuable engineer she'd ever come across and Layla had done her countless favors including this one. She would admit to faking a few friendly smiles here and there. Appearances. At last, it seemed as if they'd cleared a path to Reegar. "Let's move!" Shepard yelled back to her team, activating the door controls. As soon as she saw what was on the other side, she wished she could take the words back.

The whirr of shifting gears and the crunching of stone reached her ears immediately. A geth colossus stood mere yards away. Its brilliant, blue 'eye' trained on the group immediately.

Jack hesitated on the trigger for a moment. "Son of a-!"

"Get down!" Shepard tackled her to the ground just as the heat and force of the shot rushed towards them. Chunks of broken stone rained down around them, smoking as they hit the ground. Suddenly, Layla could feel Garrus pulling her to her feet. She gasped, taking a breath she didn't know she was holding.

He offered his arm until she regained her balance. "Almost makes you nostalgic, doesn't it?"

A dry laugh left Shepard. Taking cover behind one of the pillars, she peered down her scope at the opposition. She cursed under her breath. There were enough geth down there to populate a small town. Signaling for the other two to form up, Layla sprinted down the ramp, slowing when she saw a flash of red. A lone quarian sat, huddled behind a low wall. His rifle was clutched tightly against his chest, slow, tense movements betraying the fact that he was likely injured.

She rushed forward, grabbing cover as quickly as she could. The quarian's voice crackled through his suit. "Hang on, Shepard! Stay down before that colossus gets ideas!" Layla nodded at Garrus and Jack as they took cover as well, a barrage of gunfire ringing out against the metal wall at her back. The quarian shifted where he sat, "I still got no idea why you're here, but this ain't the time to be picky. Tali's inside over there. Geth killed the rest of my squad, and they're trying to get to her. Best I've been able to do is draw their attention."

Nodding, she took a wary glance around. "Are you Reegar?" she yelled over the gunfire.

The quarian nodded weakly, barely steadying himself enough to begin to reload his rifle. Shepard grabbed the muzzle and forced it downward. "You're done," she bit out. "Fall back until I handle this."

The quarian shook his head and rose shakily to his feet, aiming down his sights. "My job is to keep Tali safe. I don't need your permission to-" Layla caught Reegar with a hard right hook, sending him tumbling to the ground.

The rifle had nearly fallen from his hands. He glared up at her. "I'm not going to stand here while you run into enemy fire! They killed my whole squad!" Reegar's protests fell on deaf ears as Shepard sat in silence, working out the best plan of attack. _Get in close, don't give it a chance to repair itself… left flank from the shade…_

She broke away from her self-imposed trance just long enough to snatch Reegar once more. Visibly annoyed, she forced him to stay down. "Shut up and watch my back in case they bring reinforcements!" She flicked the bullet-sized irregularity in his suit. "You disobey my orders and I'll punch another hole in your armor."

He seemed to consider her words for a moment, before finally lowering his rifle. "All right, Shepard. We'll do it your way. Hit 'em for me. Keelah, se'lai."

Jack and Garrus had already started to cut a swath through the incoming waves of geth. The sound of gunfire was almost constant, echoing off the stone walls. As usual, Shepard broke off almost immediately, making a beeline for the largest threat. Short bursts of controlled fire seemed to be whittling down its shields, but she needed to get in closer. Layla sprinted between the stone pillars, denying the armature the chance to land a hit.

The colossus shifted its attention away from the moving target, firing a cannon blast at the stone ledge above Shepard. On reflex, she dove out of the way. The move came a split second too late, a mass of loose stones and debris crashing down with a deafening roar. Layla felt the weight against her armor first, the ground trembling beneath her immediately after. It took a moment for the shock to wear off.

She was trapped, prone beneath the pile of rubble. Her lower legs were completely immobilized. Her voice crackled over the radio. "Shit! I'm pinned down!"

Garrus ran for cover as another wave of geth blocked the path to the colossus. There were six destroyers between them and Shepard. He leaned out, aiming down his sights at one with a frustrated growl. "Layla's down! I need to get up there!"

Jack snatched him back into cover just as he attempted to make a break for the colossus. She couldn't decide if the turian was brave, or just damn stupid. "All you're gonna get is dead if you rush into that nest of geth up there."

Shepard struggled against the weight of the rubble. It was no good. Her leg was caught on something. A stray piece of rebar, most likely. _This isn't good_.. The only thing between her and the colossus was the pile of rubble she was trapped beneath. A barrage of bullets bounced off of her shields. She swept the area ahead of her with her pistol, but a cloud of dust lingered in the air. Visibility was minimal.

The faintest flicker of movement. She emptied half a clip immediately, a brief shimmer betraying the presence of a geth hunter. The rounds she'd fired were returned threefold, drastically reducing her shields. Garrus and Jack were too far away to give her any cover. A moment of panic as she attempted to free herself once more. _A few more hits and I'll be eating these bullets…_

The sound of a shotgun left Shepard tightening her grip on her gun. Another shot. A third. The geth hunter collapsed in a heap on the ground. The cloaking barrier dissolved as it powered down. Layla stared at it, confused. She didn't have time to work out what she was seeing. Three explosions rang out behind her, one after the other.

A high-pitched whine left the colossus as it shook the ground with its sudden, erratic movements. A streak of golden biotics cut across the field in a fierce shockwave, straight towards the armature. Shepard could smell the electrical discharge, thick in the air. A final, deafening crash as the colossus crashed to the ground. The air was still thick with dust, making it difficult to see more than a few inches in front of her face. A figure was quickly approaching her. By the time they got close enough for proper visibility, she already had her gun aimed at their chest and ready to fire.

Jet black Titan armor and a single, gleaming red eye visible beneath his tinted visor. A familiar voice, low and commanding as he knelt down. "Shepard," he holstered his shotgun and quickly moved to clear away the rubble. "A little help, here?"

The commander's lips parted in shock. "Drayson? What the hell-?" Her arguments ended there. Layla shifted her focus to clearing the loose stones as well. The distant sounds of gunfire were sparse now, which was either good news, or another, larger problem.

Layla frowned as Harvey lifted her into his arms. Reflexively, she draped her arms around his neck. Drayson didn't seem fatigued, or anxious to put her down. For the briefest moment, she was impressed by his strength.

The moment passed quickly.

"I'm not a fucking invalid," she bit out, shoving him away. Harvey shrugged, climbing the pile of rubble and moving to inspect the fallen colossus. Shepard stretched for a moment. Her muscles protested a bit at the sensation, but she still had full range of movement. At least nothing was broken. Well, her suit had seen better days. The metallic surface of her burgundy armor was dented in several places.

"Shepard!" She could hear Garrus but she couldn't see him. The turian was on her in an instant, nearly knocking her over as he took her into his arms. His tone was hushed; panicked. "Are you okay?"

Layla faltered for the briefest moment. "Yeah, I'm fine." The words forced their way out of her like so many times before. Still catching her breath, she cast a glance at Drayson. He was putting three more rounds into the colossus, making sure it stayed down. The sensation was slight- so slight- but her heart raced. She was exhilarated. For the first time in a long time, she'd been the one saved.

Jack wasn't far behind, taking everything in before gesturing her gun towards the far wall. "Door's open. Let's go." Shepard climbed over the pile of rubble, waiting for her entire team to accompany her as she opened the door.

Tali's voice was the first thing to greet her as the doors opened. "Just let me finish this download…" Layla was still somewhat dazed, lingering near one of the defunct geth in the corner of the room. A glint of metal caught her attention. It was some sort of rifle. Bulky, but sleek. She'd have Mordin take a closer look at it later.

"Thank you, Shepard. If not for you, I'd never have made it out of this room." Tali was still hard at work, deciphering whatever data she'd collected on this damned planet. It didn't take much convincing to get her to return to the Normandy for the mission ahead, even though Reegar seemed somewhat resistant to the idea. She still wasn't fully willing to trust Cerberus, but Layla couldn't care less. As long as she was on board to fight the Collectors, nothing else mattered.

Except, one thing.

* * *

The crew was enthusiastic about the quarian joining the crew. Somewhat shocking, considering their Cerberus ties. Sergeant Gardner had whipped up a small feast and wine, much the same as when Garrus had first boarded the Normandy.

Shepard found Lieutenant Drayson quickly, cornering him in a darkened portion of the mess hall. The rest of the crew was celebrating quite noisily around the tables. They wouldn't be noticed.

His aloofness only served to annoy her. She wasted no time getting to the matter at hand. "You disobeyed direct orders."

Harvey tilted his head in confusion. "I saved your life," he replied, bluntly.

Layla folded her arms over her chest. A slight scowl started to creep onto her face. "My life didn't need saving."

He smirked, leaning comfortably against the wall. "That's not what I saw."

Now she was just getting pissed off. Who did this man think he was? Flashing her that smug little smile, strutting around like he owned every room he stepped into. "What I saw, was you blatantly disregarding my command. That's a good way to get on my bad side, Lieutenant."

"Thank you."

She blinked. "What?"

"Thank you. It's the appropriate response to someone saving you from certain death."

Shepard's next words lingered on her tongue, but no sound came out. Given enough time, she could have found a way out of that situation… right? The memory of the rising panic she'd felt struck her, forcing her to look away. Had dying really made her that fearful? Before actually succumbing to it, death had been something of an abstract concept to Layla Shepard. She simply lived by a personal code.

 _Accomplish the mission at any cost. Kill indiscriminately and without remorse. Show no weakness. Leave no enemies alive._

It had served her well during her time with the Alliance, on Torfan… against Saren and Sovereign. But now? Now, all she could remember was the moment she'd drifted off into space, the air suddenly thinning as her oxygen tank ruptured. Gasping for air.. even just a breath. Desperate hands clawing at the leak. Her mind going blank, vision darkening… falling...

She looked up, suddenly aware that she'd fallen silent. Drayson was observing her wordlessly, his hand venturing forward, if only slightly. His fingertips brushed her arm just barely, as if he wanted to steady her, or comfort her. She pulled away- she didn't want either. It was bad enough that at her core, she felt gratitude to this man she barely knew for sparing her from experiencing fear like that once more.

She took a step back. "We'll never know what could have happened." Her words were clipped; short. Her gaze focused on his for just a moment. Bright hazel, glaring crimson… both stripping her bare in this moment of weakness. A flash of anger at the realization. With a low growl, she shoved the man. Hard. The force quickly made him lose his footing, toppling to the floor. She glared down at him, not expecting what she saw in his gaze. Not anger, not pity… not even surprise. Just… curiosity. Balling her hand into a fist, Layla thought better of punching him, instead choosing to storm off to her quarters. She didn't want to be around anyone right now. As frightening as it sounded, she just wanted to be alone with her thoughts.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Welcome back! By request, feel free to sample more of my work in the horror genre on:**

 **P**

 **A**

 **T**

 **R**

 **E**

 **O**

 **N**

 **(AngelicSavant)**

* * *

Despite Shepard's apparent anger at his disobedience, she still saw fit to include him in future missions. She'd brought Harvey along when she'd set out to recruit the assassin and the Justicar. Against those opponents she was completely in her element; no hesitation, no fear… really no need for any backup at all. On more than one occasion, Harvey had found himself merely standing around with Jack, looking on in rapt silence as the commander mowed down an entire wave of men with nothing but a pistol and her bare fists. Against enemies like these, she seemed nearly invincible. It was a side of her that the Reaper general had been most interested to observe. Though he had a strangely mounting interest in observing her in general, even when her actions were purely mundane.

There had definitely been a thaw in her disposition towards him since that day on Haestrom. A handful of conversations here and there hardly constituted a close relationship, but he was on the right track. He was sure of it. At worst, she'd decided he wasn't a threat. At best, she was warming up to him. Progress, either way.

It was early, and Harvey found himself silently trailing Shepard down to the shuttle bay. She'd skipped breakfast entirely, immediately setting up to train. He lingered in the far corner, watching her. She hadn't noticed him yet. The main lights were low, leaving the space dark except for the small training area in the far corner. While he hadn't spent much time observing her yet, it seemed uncharacteristic of her to be so focused on a task that she lost sight of her surroundings like this. It was possible she had something on her mind.

It was strangely soothing, watching her wrap the crimson tape around her fingers. Slow, careful movements. It seemed like ritual for her. A moment of composure before she assumed her stance in front of the training dummy. Dark, brown eyes never once left her target. It was rare, seeing her with her hair down like this. It was a curiosity- countless dark coils that stopped just shy of her shoulders, bouncing gently with each strike. He idly wondered if they'd be soft to the touch. The full pout of her lips occasionally lapsed into a frown as she switched stances.

All at once, Layla switched to biotics, generating a singularity. While she'd succeeded in drawing the practice dummy into the eye of the attack, she'd also managed to draw her water bottle near. The small cylinder of plastic flew off of the table beside her and struck the commander squarely in her forehead. She swore under her breath. Before he could rein it in, a small bark of laughter escaped Harvey.

Layla's head snapped in the direction of the sound. "Drayson? Is that you lurking?" She sounded exasperated.

Stifling another laugh, he stepped into the light. "I wouldn't call it lurking," he stepped around the active consoles, closing the distance between them. "It's not my fault you don't know how a light switch works." He lightly kicked at the container on the floor. "You're also not great at operating a water bottle, from the looks of things."

Layla rolled her eyes as she picked it up. She shook the bottle in his direction, a few droplets hitting him before he could dodge. "Shouldn't you be at breakfast, Lieutenant?"

He shrugged. "The food isn't going anywhere. Besides, if I was at breakfast, who would save you from yourself?" He reached out as if to inspect her forehead for signs of damage.

"Tch." The commander grabbed his wrist and tossed his arm aside. "With all due respect, Lieutenant… fuck off." Harvey eyed her as she turned to reset the fallen dummy. On a whim, he lashed out for a sudden strike. His eyes widened as she suddenly turned to catch his fist in her palm.

She smirked. "That's cute," Layla snatched his fist forward, following up with a blow to the chest that floored him. "...but you can't take me."

Harvey sat up with a slight gasp. He snatched her forward with a sudden Pull she was unprepared for. The force was greater than he'd intended. He suddenly found himself floored again, this time with Layla sprawled haphazardly on top of him. The commander sat upright and let out a small, annoyed growl. Anticipating that she would lash out, his fingers closed around both of her bare wrists. The touch was gentle, but still held her firmly in place.

A chuckle rumbled in his throat as she struggled in vain. "Don't be a sore loser, Shepard."

With a defeated sigh, Layla stilled in his lap, laughing despite herself. "You fight dirty, but at least you're consistent. I can almost respect that."

He met her gaze, grinning. "Almost?" His fingers shifted gently against her wrists. A strange realization struck him- he'd never touched her skin before. It was incredibly soft, warm against his fingertips. He'd never been this close to her before, either. Not unless they were sparring. He found himself focusing in on her almond-shaped eyes. That intriguing shade of brown.

He could feel heat rising to his face; a strange restlessness where her hips met his. On reflex, he shifted slightly against her. He bit his lip, inhaling her warm, sweet scent. He didn't know what to make of this sensation, only that he didn't want it to end.

The commander seemed to have other plans. Her playful grin quickly dissolved into a look of apprehension, and then embarrassment. She pulled away, hurriedly rising to her feet. Harvey felt his fingers reaching for her. He stared up at her, confused as she backed away.

A slight, nervous laugh escaped her. "I think that's more than enough sparring for now." She grabbed her towel and jacket, nodding towards the exit. She steadfastly avoided his gaze. "Go get some breakfast, Lieutenant. That's an order."

* * *

Layla tapped her spoon against the edge of her bowl insistently, eyes trained on the table in front of her. A tattooed hand flew in front of her face. "Hey! You alive in there?" Jack snapped her fingers. On reflex, Layla snatched her wrist and pinned it to the table with a loud thud that drew a few stares. Blinking, she released her hold on Jack. "Sorry.. I've got a lot on my mind right now."

"Yeah, no shit." Jack pulled a small metal flask from her pocket, adding a generous splash of its contents to her coffee mug. "What's got you so on edge, Shepard? Still thinkin about that guy on Horizon? Your ex?"

Layla tensed, glaring at her. "I could give a fuck about Kaidan," she spat. It was an obvious lie, but she hoped that if she repeated it enough it would become the truth.

Jack raised the cup to her lips with a shrug. "Hey, the guy tore you down for a stupid reason. Just proves he's a man." A slow sip and a chuckle. "Plus, I saw his ass. You gotta be missing that right about now…"

"Hey!"

"What? I call em like I see em. He's hot. Looked damn good walking away from you, too." Layla shoulder checked her almost hard enough to make her spill the coffee. The commander laughed, despite herself. Jack set the mug down, the smirk fading from her features. "Point is, even though he's obviously a bitchy little twit, I can get you missing him."

"Gee, thanks," Layla sighed, shaking her head. It didn't help that Kaidan wasn't the only thing on her mind…

Jack raised her hand, waving someone over. "Drayson! Took your sweet ass time."

The Lieutenant slid into the seat across from Shepard, wasting almost no time before he began to dig into his meal. Layla's gaze moved over him briefly. Blonde strands spilled over his face as he leaned over his tray. Their exchange earlier didn't seem to have phased him in the least. She wished she could say the same.

Four bites in, he finally acknowledged Jack's greeting. "Didn't know I was on a timetable for meals. Is this a ship or a prison?"

Jack chuckled into her coffee mug. "Trust me. You don't want to know what it looks like when it's both."

Harvey shrugged, his attention shifting to Shepard for a moment. She immediately found an interesting spot on the wall to stare at instead. Her mind kept drifting back to those brief moments she'd spent settled in his lap. The way he'd looked at her…

She hadn't really considered it before, but.. It wasn't as if the man was unattractive. Far from it. At first glance, his appearance was a bit jarring, certainly. Still, it wasn't enough to give her much pause. She'd always had a thing for men with scars. His was a prominent feature on his face, settled beside one vivid, hazel orb. She stole a glance as he raked the golden strands away from his face.

A familiar, light fluttering had settled into her stomach. It didn't make any sense. She barely knew the man. So why did she force herself to look away when his gaze met hers?

He stared at her in silence for a long moment. She tensed. He couldn't be getting ready to mention what had happened earlier…. could he?

The lieutenant pointed at her bowl with his fork. "You gonna eat that?"

Shepard blinked, staring down into her untouched oatmeal. Her palm immediately came up to meet her forehead.

Seriously?

"No, actually," she replied. Two fingers pushed the steaming bowl towards him. Layla watched him set aside his own tray and turn his attention to the new offering. It was almost funny, watching him struggle to scoop it up with a fork.

"Here," the commander offered him her spoon. He grinned sheepishly, reaching out to take it from her. The subtle ache she felt when his fingers brushed hers immediately soured her mood again.

The heat seemed to be deterring the lieutenant's usual method of shoveling in as much food as possible. He took slow, thoughtful bites, occasionally glancing at Shepard with a look she could only describe as curiosity.

Jack wasn't about to break the silence anytime soon, clearly absorbed in a video on her omni-tool. Exasperated, Layla suddenly stood, leaving the table without a word. She didn't have time for this.

* * *

Harvey's eyes tracked Layla as she walked away. They quickly came to rest on the sway of her hips. Lately, he'd found himself strangely preoccupied with the way they shifted beneath the monochrome fabric of her fatigues. Tearing his eyes away, he let the spoon clatter down into the bowl. This was getting to be a serious issue.

He'd apparently had something of a reprieve at the start, but he found that the longer he spent in this borrowed body, the more beholden he was becoming to its biological imperatives. In this case, a rather annoying preoccupation with the female members of the Cerberus crew, Shepard included.

He'd lost count of how many times he'd ceased to make productive observations for his mission because this body had led him to observe trivial things like Lawson's skin-tight uniform or Jack's entire lack of one. Shepard was a distraction in her own right. Soldiers weren't supposed to look the way that she did- not with soft curves and slight, delicate faces. She was always covered, buttoned up. His mind raced with the idea of what she might look like when she wasn't.

A frustrated sigh as he pushed away from the table. This was ridiculous. He knew that organics had mating drives, but he never imagined they would be so... incessant. Jack didn't seem to register the fact that he was leaving the table as well. It was for the best. He could never predict what he might say or do in this state.

He'd let himself get more than sidetracked, here. Learning more about Shepard was important, of course, but it had been far too long since he'd gotten a chance to do a proper harvest. It had been nearly a week since the reaping on Horizon. He would get back on track. Starting today.

* * *

Joker's voice echoed over the intercom, startling Shepard as she examined the galaxy map. "Commander, urgent message from Admiral Hackett. Patching it through."

Her father wasted no time with pleasantries once the comm was opened. "Shepard, I've got reports of scattered distress signals coming from a human colony in the traverse. Ferris Fields. All attempts to establish a comm link have failed."

Layla's eyes narrowed, a frown settling on her lips. "Are we thinking Collectors?"

"I'm not ruling anything out. I've got a small regiment inbound. I need you to rendezvous with them, gather more intel." It was unsurprising. The Alliance couldn't exactly send much manpower into the traverse without drawing undue attention.

"Consider it done."

"Thank you, Commander." A slight, ghost of a smile tugged at the corner of her mouth just before they disconnected. It was gone as quickly as it came.

Shepard turned and headed towards the weapons lockers. From what they'd seen on Horizon, they had a few hours max. "Joker, plot a relay jump. Stealth approach. EDI, page my ground team and tell the engineers to prepare the Mako."

Garrus and Jack were already changing into their armor by the time she reached the lockers. The three of them suited up wordlessly, already more than aware of the time constraints they were facing. Layla had only just started inspecting her loadout when Miranda ran into the room looking somewhat harried.

"Commander, there's been a... development. You're probably too busy-"

"What is it, Lawson?"

"Well, it's Lieutenant Drayson, he's …"

Shepard could already feel herself getting annoyed. "Just spit it out."

"He's… non-responsive."

Shepard blinked, struggling to comprehend what she'd just been told. "What the hell do you mean, 'non-responsive'?"

"Dr. Solus seems to think he's in some sort of coma." When Shepard merely tilted her head in mute confusion, Miranda motioned towards the med bay. "Perhaps you should see for yourself."

Layla holstered the rest of her weapons and followed quickly after Miranda, Garrus and Jack trailing behind out of curiosity. The first thing she saw once the doors opened was a blur of lights and whirring instruments. Chakwas and Solus paced frantically, running every test they could on the unconscious Lieutenant. Shepard took a step closer, looking him over. He looked pale.

Layla shook her head grimly, looking over Chakwas' shoulder at her datapad. "What the hell happened?" The doctor merely shook her head, frantically flipping through the results on the screen.

"I wish I knew. He was in his room. EDI said she couldn't wake him and when Massani went to retrieve him…" she trailed off, preparing an IV.

Mordin approached Shepard with the same, relaxed demeanor as always. "Honest opinion? Does not look good. Lieutenant Drayson in sudden, vegetative state. No higher brain functions. Possible complications from embedded Reaper tech. No signs of contagion that could endanger crew, but…." The salarian took a deep breath, shaking his head. "Potentially fatal if it lasts more than a day."

Layla looked over at Harvey with a grimace. This was impossibly terrible timing. To make matters worse, Drayson had proven to be somewhat invaluable on the battlefield and she would be touching down on what could be a Collector infested rock in less than an hour. "Do what you can for him," she said, finally. Mordin nodded, returning to the task at hand.

Shepard's mind raced as the three of them made their way back to the lockers to finish suiting up. They just didn't have the time to linger on what was going on with Drayson right now. Not with thousands of lives potentially hanging in the balance on Ferris.

Layla packed away her last few thermal clips, turning to face Garrus. "I guess it's a good thing he's Cerberus' problem, not ours."

Garrus slid his scope into place, the pieces connecting with a soft click. He sighed. "The guy saved your life, Shepard. I know I wasn't advocating for him, but... I'm not going to start cheering if he dies."

Layla turned to see if Jack had any of her trademark witty comments ready, but the biotic merely shook her head and returned her attention to her shotgun. Even her own team was managing to make her feel bad about this. As much as she hated to admit it, Drayson wasn't a terrible guy. Dying that way would be far less than he deserved. Hard as she tried, she couldn't manage to shake the thought. Not until their objective was actually within reach.

Ferris Fields easily lived up to its name. Bright, rolling hills of green with splotches of wildflowers and trees. Dozens upon dozens of buildings dotted the area.

The Collector vessel towered over all of it, looming menacingly in a haze of dense fog and electrical discharge. The town center wasn't far from their landing site, the approach taking only minutes on foot. A large, white and gold banner hung over the entryway, offering a cheerful, if not ironic, welcome. The main feature of the square- a multicolored ferris wheel- stood eerily still. For the briefest moment, Layla thought of the bustling boardwalks back home. A knot immediately formed in her stomach.

Shepard stood at the archway and listened. It was deathly quiet. Not even the distant chirping of birds like on Earth. Wordlessly, she signaled for the team to advance, glancing into each shop window hoping to see signs of life.

A slight buzzing noise and a flash of movement caught the Commander's attention. The seeker swarms. They were still present, though the bulk of the horde seemed to be retreating towards the Collector ship. A bad sign. Layla immediately led the pursuit on foot, charging through the square and into the dense underbrush that surrounded it. Visibility was remarkably low, their movements guided mostly by the sounds of the swarm.

When a break in the treeline finally arrived, they were practically beneath the massive ship. The swarm had outpaced them, filing neatly into the open bay doors. Shepard raised her fist, signaling a sudden stop as two pairs of glowing, golden eyes peered out at them. This Collector stood tall; proud, with a swagger she remembered from Horizon. The sudden, biotic rush of a shockwave forced the trio to dive out of the way. A low rumble shook the ground around them. A scattering of leaves and dirt as the air began to heat.

Layla aimed her weapon at the offending creature, cursing under her breath as she saw the doors of the ship beginning to close. The vessel was already beginning to depart. Without hesitation, she fired round after round at the bay doors. Garrus and Jack quickly followed suit, the sounds of one-sided gunfire almost completely drowned out by the ship's thrusters. It seemed that a shot had managed to land.

A lone figure toppled at least a dozen feet from the departing ship. Shepard hung back a few steps, glaring up at the ship's retreating silhouette. This entire mission had been a failure. They were simply too little, too late. She ran up to the fallen figure with a growl, jamming the muzzle of her assault rifle into its bloodied face without thinking twice.

Two pairs of golden eyes stared up at her, unblinking. A low, chittering noise began to rise from the injured creature. Layla had only just removed the safety when the noise suddenly deepened. A harsh, throaty laugh met her ears, followed by the sound of her shields being removed by a sudden wave of golden biotics. Layla squeezed the trigger reflexively.

A low hiss from her gun. It was overloaded. The Collector wrapped it's bony claw around her wrist and snatched her forward.

"You prolong the inevitable."

Half a dozen shots rang out behind her as Garrus and Jack silenced the creature. Layla blinked in shock as it collapsed; lifeless. This was the same Collector from Horizon- the one that had nearly killed them. But how-?

With a frustrated growl, Shepard unholstered her shotgun and immediately began firing into the Collector's corpse. The first shot tore apart much of what remained of the creature, the second only further reducing it to a pile of blood and viscera.

Garrus closed the distance between them as she reached for another clip. "Shepard!" he grabbed her arm, forcing the gun downward. "It's done. There's nothing more we can do here."

She snatched her arm away. He was right, but that didn't mean she had to like it. Her radio crackled with transmissions from the Alliance unit. It was in their jurisdiction, now. Gritting her teeth, Shepard glared at the maimed creature once more before grudgingly following her team back to the Mako.

* * *

"I told you, I feel fine."

Harvey rolled his eyes as Chakwas and Solus continued to fawn over him. Organics sure knew how to make a big fuss about nothing. As if he wasn't a reliable source for determining the way his own body felt. He hadn't anticipated anyone would realize he hadn't been occupying it. This complicated things. They would almost certainly be watching him even more closely, now. That would make the prospect of directly supervising another reaping difficult. He would need to be expedient with his observations of Shepard. There was no time to waste.

The med bay doors slid open, the Commander stepping in and examining the scene before her with tired eyes. Her curls were disheveled as if she'd just taken off her helmet. Some of the tension seemed to leave her form as he met her gaze.

Layla waved the two doctors off, waiting until they'd left to speak. "Lieutenant, glad to see you awake. I was worried we'd lost you for a moment, there."

Harvey scoffed. His eyes tracked the Commander's movements as she took a seat in the doctor's chair. "There's no one here but us, Shepard. You don't have to keep up the act." She tilted her head inquisitively and said nothing. He rolled his eyes. "You don't have to pretend to care about what happens to me."

Shepard held his gaze for a long moment. The brown hues that met his were obviously weary. Beyond their years, even. Sitting forward in her seat, Layla rested her elbows on her knees. "Just because I didn't recruit you, doesn't mean that I don't care what happens to you. You're still a member of my crew, like anyone else. I was worried about you." He merely sneered, shaking his head.

She paused for a moment. "Why are you so determined to believe that I don't care?"

"Because you don't know me, Shepard."

"I know you haven't harmed anyone on my ship…. mostly. I know that you've been fighting by my side." She frowned a bit as the next words lingered on her lips. "...I know that you saved my life."

Harvey met her gaze once more. Something in her words resonated with him, though he couldn't determine just what it was. It felt.. genuine. Her feelings were inconsequential, so why did he feel so comforted, learning that she'd been concerned for his well-being? He opened his mouth to speak, but she raised a hand to cut him off.

"I'm done talking about it." A slow sigh as she stood. She avoided his gaze as she headed towards the door. "Get some rest, Lieutenant."


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: Welcome back!

It's been a long hiatus, but we're back in this thing. Hope you enjoy.

* * *

.

* * *

It was this same dream again.

Faint cries and barked orders. The bitter odor of spent heat sinks. He was storming through clouds of black smoke, the cracked mask over his face letting it in. An alarm was wailing overhead, but a familiar female voice could still be heard.

"Pierce! Taylor! Cover the exits! Drayson! Clear the East corridor!" A barrage of gunfire drowned out any further orders, but he was already on the move. A flash of royal blue in the corner of his eye- an unfriendly color. His finger was on the trigger of the shotgun in an instant, the blowback jarring him for a moment as he let off a shot. A shrill scream and the sound of broken glass. Water and blood pooled around his feet, a shattered rachni gestation tank barely visible through the smoke. A woman laid beneath it, shivering as she bled out.

A scientist; a civilian.

He pulled out his pistol and leveled it at her forehead. Avoiding her gaze, he pulled the trigger. He never used to wince at dead-checking. That wasn't the case anymore.

Soon the world became a series of alarms, sprays of gunfire and screams. He was vaguely aware they were someplace they weren't allowed to be.

They.

He'd almost forgotten about his team. He turned a sharp corner. The chamber of a gun leveled at his eye. N7 insignia on its owner's chest. A flash of red as he fired his weapon one last time.

Harvey shot upright in his cot, nearly falling off of it as he struggled to get his bearings and catch his breath. Cold sweat left his fatigues clinging to him, golden strands plastered to his face. His heart was still racing.

"What the hell…"

Bit by bit, the memories of this body's original owner had been coming back to him. Most of which he could definitely do without. It was foreign, this feeling of fearing for his life. After so many eons, the concept of his own death truly hadn't occurred to him. Until now.

A knock at the door. He groaned, leaning against the cold wall. It was oddly comforting, the sensation serving to ease him awake and ground him in reality.

"What is it?" he called out.

Shepard's voice rang out on the other side. "You decent in there, Drayson?"

He rolled his eyes, wishing she could see it. "Yeah, why?" Instead of a response, the door flew open with a beep and a slight hiss.

Layla stepped into the small space, her gaze moving over him for a long moment before she spoke. "You look like shit, Drayson. You okay?"

A dry chuckle. "Yeah, wonderful." He squinted over at her. The room was dimly lit, with just enough artificial sunlight for him to see her features shift into a worried pout. "To what do I owe the pleasure?" Layla moved a bit closer, leaning against the opposite wall. She crossed her arms, obviously hesitant.

"EDI said you were screaming in your sleep. Usually I wouldn't intrude, but a few crew members heard it too."

"I'm fine," he bit out. Shepard only sighed, not addressing the obvious lie.

"Look, I know the stress is getting to all of us. We're landing at Illium in an hour. A few hours of shore leave. You should get out for a bit. Stretch your legs."

He scoffed, pulling his sweat-soaked tank top over his head and tossing it aside. He noticed Shepard quickly averting her gaze. "Sounds like a waste of time. Did the Collectors suddenly cease to be a threat?"

"You were screaming, Lieutenant. In your sleep. Go shower and get ready for some shore leave."

Reaching for the sheets he'd kicked off of his cot, Harvey sneered. "I'll pass."

Layla grabbed the pile of linens and snatched it away. "That was an order, not a request."

* * *

Illium was a vast sea of architecture. The city itself had a pulse- he could feel it carried on the breeze. The docking bay was packed nearly to capacity with locals and tourists trying to hail cabs.

Harvey could hear Shepard addressing a few members of the crew in the immediate distance, a faint sound against the steady hum of ship engines and distant cars. Leaning against the rail, he looked out at the view. Against all of this, he admittedly felt… small.

The sooner he could be rid of this body, the better.

"I expect everyone back aboard the Normandy by 2300 hours. No exceptions, no excuses." Looking over his shoulder, Harvey watched the Cerberus crew offer Shepard a final salute before going their separate ways. The commander herself seemed to be making a beeline for the retail district, her hand already pressed to the elevator call panel. Wordlessly, he joined her just as the doors were closing.

Layla glanced at him and rolled her eyes. At this point, he'd decided it was as much a greeting as a sign of annoyance. "Lieutenant, isn't there someplace you'd rather be? Literally anywhere else?"

A smirk. "Can't say there is. Wasn't exactly expecting any shore leave." He examined her silently for a moment. A jet-black pantsuit that billowed when she moved. Silver bangles on her wrists. Her hair was down- that mass of soft, dark curls. He'd never seen her like this before. The civilian look was intriguing on her. It was even more intriguing guessing at where she might be hiding her pistol among those delicate folds of chiffon...

He reprimanded himself for his thoughts. ' _Focus...'_

Layla shook her head. "Some of the crew lost people on Ferris Fields. They need a mental health day. Besides, I can't exactly lead these people into almost certain death without at least giving them a reprieve." The two stepped out of the elevator as it reached its destination. A long hallway of immaculate storefronts stretched out for what looked like miles. Directly across from them, a zen garden stretched out nearly as far.

A softspoken VI issued her automatic greeting. 'Welcome to the Daeza ward'

Layla turned to face him with an exaggerated sigh. "Seriously Drayson, do you mind? You look like a bodyguard and I'm trying to keep a low profile." Glancing down at his outfit, Harvey could see her point. He was wearing Cerberus dress-whites. No insignia, but semi-formal and definitely not low profile.

He quirked an eyebrow at her. "Is that the problem?" Removing his jacket, he took the sleeves and tied them haphazardly around his waist. "I doubt even the most casual bodyguards walk around in t-shirts." Harvey could have sworn he saw the commander stifle a laugh as she turned and entered the shopping ward.

A hobby shop was the last place he'd expected her to go. A shooting range, an armor detailer, maybe, but not a tiny pop up store that sold craft supplies and cases for collectible figurines. He accompanied her in silence, looking on curiously as she filled her small handbasket with glue and other ship-building essentials.

"The famous Commander Shepard spends her spare time…. building model ships?"

She pursed her lips for a moment in what appeared to be suppressed annoyance. "It's a relaxing hobby. If you hadn't noticed, I have a stressful job."

"I've noticed. Still, I'd expect that out of Moreau before you."

Setting her items on the checkout counter, Layla reached for her credit chit. "Live long enough and people will surprise you."

The small square of plastic slipped from her fingers and slid across the countertop. She reached for it, the warm, sweet scent of her perfume greeting him as she did so. An apologetic half-smile as she met his gaze.

Despite his best efforts to ignore it, a slight fluttering was building in his chest. "I see."

* * *

Drayson wasn't the worst company she could have asked for. He wasn't the talkative type unless something specific piqued his interest, and his presence discouraged any half-baked attempts to flirt with her. She had mixed feelings about the latter. Anyone who saw them together and recognized her would likely spark the rumor mill about the newly-resurrected Commander Shepard's new boyfriend. She could just imagine the look on Kaidan's face at seeing a headline like that.

 _'_ _Why am I even thinking about Kaidan?'_

He was the last thing she needed on her mind right now. He'd made his position quite clear. Kaidan was an Alliance man down to his core. Right or wrong. There was a time when she'd respected that about him. Now it had become tiresome. Thinking about him, in general, was tiresome. She needed a moment of distraction.

"I'm tired of walking. Let's stop and get an ice cream."

Drayson stared at her as if she'd just grown another head. "Ice cream?"

Layla rolled her eyes. "Don't tell me you've forgotten something so crucial to human survival."

"Alright, now I know you're exaggerating."

Shaking her head, Layla grabbed his wrist and led him towards a brightly-lit storefront covered in pink and white lights. Neon cones glowed on either side of the entrance. He went along quietly, staring into the clear coolers that held each flavor. Lingering at one of the pub tables, he seemed preoccupied with all of the signs and information. He was still where she'd left him by the time she'd bought two soft serve vanilla cones. Harvey eyed the waffle cone curiously as she handed it over.

Layla stifled a laugh. "It's not gonna bite you, I promise." Her assurances didn't keep him from investigating it further.

She hated how cute he was, re-learning the proper way to eat soft serve- and failing. For a moment, A bright dollop of ice cream stuck to the tip of his nose. He seemed blissfully unaware. Unable to stifle a giggle, she tugged a napkin from the dispenser. Leaning closer to him, she folded the napkin and gently wiped at the smudge. His hand moved to her wrist, his fingers gently pushing her away in a half-hearted protest.

He gave her a small, crooked smile. "I'm not a toddler, Shepard…" he trailed off, staring into the distance.

"You okay, Drayson?"

A few moments passed before he responded. Blinking, he met her gaze. "Yes, I'm sorry. I was just... remembering something." From his tone, he sounded unsure.

Shepard debated with herself before she spoke. Did she really want to pry into something so personal? "Was it the nightmares?"

His eyebrows knit together in thought, Drayson drummed his fingertips against the tabletop. "No… the nightmares are about the day I 'died'. I'm sure of it. This was something else." He held the ice cream cone up in front of his face. "I remember _this._ The taste; the cold. A blonde woman.. much taller than me.. gave me one, once. In a place like this." He fell silent, reaching for his next words. "I think… I think she was my mother."

Layla chewed her bottom lip absently. Why was this conversation making her so uncomfortable? Harvey's eyes were wide, his fingertips drumming an even more erratic rhythm on the surface of the table.

"Do you.. remember anything else about her?"

"No," he whispered. Shaking his head, he pushed back from the table. "This isn't right. I'm not supposed to remember anything."

"Why are you so against remembering who you are?"

He glared at her, his tone low and hollow. "Because Harvey Drayson is supposed to be dead. I don't need him haunting me."

She didn't know why, but the way he said the words disturbed her. Had his experiences really been so jarring that amnesia was a better alternative? "I can understand wanting a clean slate." Shepard gently patted his arm. "But if we can't remember our failings we can't learn from them, can we?"

Visibly relaxing, he met her gaze and offered a brief, half-smile. Glancing at her hand on his arm, he gently covered it with his own. "You've got a bad habit of making me feel better, Shepard."

The faint whirr and click of a camera captured her attention. Scanning their surroundings, she noticed a dark-haired man hurriedly disabling his omni-tool before casting a nervous glance at her and jogging off. Sighing, she crumpled her napkin and tossed it onto the table.

"Great. That'll be on the extranet for the next three months…" she muttered under her breath.

"And?"

Agitated, she ran a hand back through her curls. "Certain people might get the wrong idea about…" she trailed off, looking him up and down. He merely shrugged.

"Why are you so concerned with what other people think of you?" She avoided his gaze, shaking her head.

He scoffed. "This galaxy is littered with billions of cowards who wouldn't attempt half of what you've done. Do you think the man who took that photo would have survived Torfan, or Eden Prime?"

"No... I don't."

"You are Layla Shepard. The common masses will speculate. Even more so because you are exceptional among your kind. Let them."

Layla merely blinked, shaking her head. She hadn't expected a response like that. Certainly not from someone like Drayson. The man was hypercritical of most every move and decision she made.

"Careful, Lieutenant.. you're starting to sound like one of my fanboys."

Harvey chuckled. "I'm merely stating facts, Shepard. It doesn't make me a fan." Despite his words, the corner of his mouth twitched upward once more into that cute, awkward little smile. He seemed to realize this, quickly replacing it with a frown. "At any rate, the noise here is starting to wear on my nerves. I'm heading back to the Normandy."

Layla sighed, casting a glance at the growing crowd. She'd definitely had enough excitement for one day. Shore leave was supposed to be relaxing, and right now, it looked like she would have a better chance at de-stressing aboard her own ship.

"Yeah, I could use a drink. Or three. Let's head back in."

* * *

Looking back on it, he realized he should have taken her words at face value. Shepard hadn't even complained when he'd followed her back to the captain's quarters. The soft bass of electronic music was the first thing to greet him as he stepped through the doors. The room was cast in soft blue and warm orange.

She didn't miss a beat; two glasses tinkling against her desktop. In hers, bright splashes of fruit juice and white rum…. her favorite, she'd said. Something amber swirled in his. A Bourbon Manhattan, she'd called it. Somehow she'd talked him into trying it.

Sweet, bitter… and then a sudden burn. It was strangely satisfying. Shepard never let their glasses run dry, and while he knew she was on her sixth drink, he'd long since lost count of how many he'd had. His face and ears felt warm, his fingers clumsy around the glass as he lifted it for another sip.

Only being able to entertain two or three thoughts at a time was an unexpected comfort. Lately, it felt as if there was a low hum of chatter playing in his mind- things he'd once said; snippets of conversations from long ago. Memories.. fragments of past experiences. Under the influence of this amber liquid, the chatter all but faded to silence. He was beginning to understand why organics willfully poisoned themselves this way.

He hadn't taken his eyes off of Shepard even once, his gaze roaming freely over her body. Just now, his ability to suppress the urge to do so was severely impaired. It was clear that she noticed the attention, even if she refused to comment on it.

Setting his glass down harder than he meant to, Harvey leaned back into the cool leather of the couch and watched her top off her glass. "How.. how are you still conscious, Shepard?"

Layla took a small sip and slid onto the couch beside him. "It's not my first rodeo."

He fought the impulse to take another drink. "Clearly." He finally took a moment to look around the space, desperate to focus on something other than how badly he wanted to touch her.

The case of model ships immediately held his attention. The sleek replicas gleamed on their stands, the spotlights highlighting every carefully detailed edge. The Destiny Ascension, The Normandy…

His breath caught in his throat.

"Is that one Na-" he hurriedly cleared his throat, catching himself before the name left his lips. "…Sovereign?"

Shepard briefly glanced over her shoulder at the replica. A shrug. "Yeah." She looked him up and down, eyebrows knit together in worry. "Are you okay, Drayson?"

Following her gaze to his armrest, he realized he was digging his nails into the leather. He quickly released his grip on the chair. "Yes.. I'm fine…" The soft hum of electronic music filled the air, the aquarium quietly gurgling away. "I'm just surprised you would keep something like that. Reminders of your enemies."

"I don't consider the Reapers my enemies. I want to stop them, of course, but.. enemies.. they don't qualify for that term. At least… not yet."

"Why is that?"

She sighed, swirling the bright liquid in her glass before setting it down. His mind finally realized what it resembled; a sunset. "For me, an enemy is someone whose motives you fully understand, and still disagree so intensely that you see no other recourse but to destroy each other. I know that the Reapers destroy, but that's all I know about them. I don't know why they do what they do."

He considered her words for some time, the silence stretching out between them. "Here I thought you were just another soldier. Your views… are actually quite wise."

"What's your deal, Drayson? First you act like you can't stand me and now the compliments-?"

The words rose up before he could even consider them. "Live long enough and people will surprise you."

Layla answered him with a slight chuckle, her hand resting on top of his. For such a simple gesture, he was shocked by how immediately it affected him. Her fingertips explored his hand with a featherlight touch. His first thought was to pull away- perhaps make some snide remark. But for some reason, he found himself returning the innocent touch.

He was entranced by the way her lips moved when she spoke. "Maybe you're right..." A soft murmur as she laced her fingers with his. She leaned a bit closer, her drink forgotten. Against his better judgment, he shifted closer as well, his free hand resting on her thigh. He waited for the reprimand but it never came.

Her lips were just inches from his now. He could feel her warm breaths, gentle on his skin. Her gaze met his and then drifted down to watch him nervously wet his lips. The warm, sweet scent of her perfume seemed to be everywhere. His mind was racing, heat rushing to his face. What would her lips taste like? What would they feel like?

The corner of her mouth twitched upward into a small grin. Why was there a tingling in the pit of his stomach? A flash of anger. Despite his best attempts to ignore it, he wanted her. Desired her in the mindless, chemically driven way characteristic of mammals.

 _'This is foolishness. This serves absolutely no purpose.'_

He was beginning to lose count of how often he'd repeated the same mantra. Steeling himself, he began to pull away. This body was beginning to cloud his better judgment. He had an objective, one that did not involve courting Layla Shep-

She gently cradled the side of his face in her palm, her fingertips lightly raking the stubble that covered his cheek. Slowly, lazily, her thumb brushed his lower lip. Her eyes followed the movement. Those intriguing, almond-shaped eyes…

"Harvey…"

She tasted like pineapples. A lingering sweetness that tingled against his lips.

He'd barely realized that he'd snatched her close, capturing her lips with his. They were impossibly soft. Mirroring her movements, he reveled in the taste of her lips and then her tongue, shuddering at the latter. He committed the sensation to memory. It wouldn't- couldn't happen again. A slight sigh escaped him as he started to pull away.

Layla seemed to have other plans. Her fingers wound around the collar of his shirt, pulling him back in for more. He grasped desperately for the last few threads of self-control but came up empty. Just now he couldn't think about anything but the taste of her lips; her soft, breathy sighs each time that he touched her someplace new. Her fingers wandered beneath his shirt, gently exploring the muscles and scars beneath. The next moment he was on top of her, nestled between her thighs. Each kiss sent a new jolt through him.

His body seemed to be on autopilot now, kisses and caresses that were somehow etched into his muscle memory. They felt natural, as if he'd done this a dozen times before. She shifted beneath him, a reminder that there was nothing but a thin layer of fabric between them. He wanted- needed- more.

The small couch forced their hips even closer together, the commander biting her lip as his hand slipped beneath her blouse. His fingers lightly caressed the lace and silk that covered the swells of her breasts. Her kisses now had an urgency that he easily matched. He slipped his fingers into her waistband and tugged insistently. It was no longer a question. He _had_ to get her out of these clothes...

The intercom suddenly sparked to life, Joker's voice cutting through the air like a knife. "Commander, there's a comm coming in from Liara. Sounds like it's urgent." Startled, the two quickly sat upright as if the pilot had actually walked in on them. Harvey looked over at the commander sheepishly as she collected herself.

Joker spoke once more. "Um… commander? You there?"

When Layla finally spoke, her tone was completely sober. "I'm on my way to the comm room. Two minutes." Wordlessly, she stood, smoothing the wrinkles from her outfit. Her upper lip curling into a barely suppressed sneer, Shepard glanced at him for the briefest of moments before leaving the room.

Still reeling, Harvey rose unsteadily from the couch and attempted to follow after her. Had he done something wrong? His thoughts were still hazy. It was possible.

By the time he reached the elevator, it was already making its descent. Cursing, he struck the door with his fist. Really, he should have been grateful for the interruption. Everything he had just done was incredibly foolish.

But still...

All at once, the taste of her lips came rushing back to him. A ragged sigh as he struck the elevator doors again.

"Dammit…"


End file.
